


Machinepunk

by Mikkymoo



Category: 9 (2009)
Genre: Gen, OC, Story Collection, also kinda creepy, kinda sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 08:30:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16657663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikkymoo/pseuds/Mikkymoo





	1. Awakening

I’m…  
Awake. I can see… is that my creator? They look so happy… am I supposed to be happy too? Who are these others, why are they here, are they happy too? Why…  
Why is it starting to hurt? My arms my legs my face my head why are they starting to hurt oh god why are they starting to hurt please make it stop please make it stop don’t touch me-  
It’s not hurting.  
There’s red on my hands. They hurt but now they don’t. My creator looks upset? Did I do something wrong..? The red’s coming from their hand, is that supposed to be happening..?  
Oh no they’re upset I made them upset I have to go, have to not make them upset anymore!!

The red isn’t covering my hands anymore and they hurt it hurts so much why does it keep hurting please make it stop make it stop cover it up and make it stopmakeitstopmakeitstopMAKEITSTOP-


	2. Study Notes: 'Assimilated' Stitchpunk

Entry Number… oh who even reads these. 9, sure.  
My name is... not important. What IS important is that my group and I have come across an… Interesting. Stitchpunk? Should I even call it that? The line where it should become a doll instead of a beast is blurred. Anyways, we managed to contain it in a small room. It seems agitated most of the time if not covered by something. I have given it a bit of cloth, and it seems to be more docile then.  
My leader keeps telling me to take the cloth away, and well… I did. It’s become increasingly angrier. My leader keeps saying it doesn’t feel pain but… I think it does. Whoever or whatever created it did a poor job and exposed parts of its skeleton. That alone would be painful enough without the constant movement of those parts. I feel… sorry for it.  
I have to keep this… whatever it is, uncovered and in pain, and it both makes me unhappy and scares me. It keeps looking at me, as if… as if it wants something from me. And if I have to say it, I think I know what it wants.  
It wants to keep itself covered, and I know exactly what it wants to cover itself with.


	3. Chapter 3

"We _cannot_ let that _thing_ stay here!!" A gold stitchpunk yelled. "It's a danger to us all!!"

"Septim, please! We don't need to get rid of them we just need-" A coppery stitchpunk replied, before being cut off. 

"No! Penny, i do not care what you do with this thing, but **you need to destroy it**." With that, he left, leaving two stitchpunks alone in the rather small room. One, a copper stitchpunk with a few gold strips running down his arms, and the other... the other did not look like a stitchpunk, more like a machine. It had been dubbed 'Assimilated.'

"Well... we're in a bit of a pickle, aren't we, heh..." Penny chuckled nervously. This wasn't an ideal situation. Assimilated seemed confused, or at least as confused as it could be. Penn honestly wasn't entirely sure it understood him. "Can you... you know what I'm saying, right? No easy way to say this..." Assimilated nodded, tilting its head a little.

"I... I'm gonna have to get rid of you. Septim doesn't want you around, and he thinks, he thinks the best course of action would be to... destroy you. I'm sorry." Penny could barely look at Assimilated. "I don't want to-"

He was cut off by Assimilated standing up, being a fair bit taller than he was, and walking over to him. It pat him on the head a little, being careful not to tear into his fabric... before roughly shoving him into the wall. Penny was caught off guard by this and was stunned long enough for Assimilated to exit and slam the door closed. 

"Assimilated!! Assimilated what are you doing, open the door!!" The door was either jammed or had something shoved against it. Either way, it wasn't opening. All Peny could do was push against the door and hope it opened.

And then the screaming started. 

* * *

It was at least an hour before Penny could force the door open, and by that time the hideout the rest of his group was in had become dead silent. 'Dead' being the key term.

All he could find of his companions was their metal skeletal structure, only truly identifying them by the colour of fabric left on them, and their heights. The one he saw as Septim seemed particularly broken apart. "Why... why did..." He mumbled. It was difficult to form words at this point, he was mostly in shock. Why did Assimilated do this?

And why was he left alive?


	4. Chapter 4

The stitchpunk stared at themselves in the small pool of water they’d found. The wires coming out of their head, their hands, their feet, their **teeth** …

They slammed their hand against the water, dispelling the reflection for the moment, though it would just come back in a minute or two. They hated this, they hated it all, they didn’t ask to be like this, they didn’t- They could change it. Change something.

The stitchpunk found a small sewing needle and thread, as well as fabric. It felt so nice on their hands, getting rid of the pain that had become a dull throbbing feeling in the bac of their mind. It was almost unbearable to do what they were about to do, but they had to. They wanted others to like them, not run from them, didn’t they?

A curved piece of fabric was carefully placed over their mouth, looking a bit like a crude smile. They closed their eyes, and began to sew into their mouth, attaching the fabric to their face and covering their mouth entirely, with all its sharper teeth included. They didn’t need to speak, their voicebox wasn’t working anyways.

It was painful, but pain had become an old friend to them. It only took a few minutes, and their mouth was completely covered. They looked at their reflection again. It looked… better. A part was hidden. Good.

They wished they could do the same with their hands, their feet, the blades of their arms, but they couldn’t exactly sew into those and cover them… this was fine. For now, this was fine.


End file.
